Heirs of the Force

9

“But why would such a craft be here in the jungles of Yavin 4?” Tenel Ka asked, narrowing her eyes in concern as they worked to remove the debris from the ruined craft. “Is it an Imperial spy ship?”

Jaina shook her head. “Can’t be. TIE fighters were short-range ships used by the Empire. They weren’t equipped with hyperdrive, so there aren’t many ways it could have gotten here.”

Jacen cleared his throat. “Well, I can think of one way,” he said, “but that would make this ship—let’s see…”

“Over twenty years old…” Jaina breathed, finishing his sentence for him.

Lowbacca made a low, questioning noise, and Tenel Ka continued to look perplexed.

Jaina explained. “When the Empire built the first Death Star, it was the most powerful weapon ever made. They tested it by destroying Alderaan, our mother’s homeworld. Then they brought it here to Yavin 4, to destroy the Rebel base.”

As she spoke, Jaina pulled the last bit of brush away from the top canopy of the TIE fighter and looked inside. There were no bones. She slid into the musty cockpit.

“A lot of Rebel pilots died in one-on-one combat with the TIE fighters that protected the Death Star, and a lot of Imperial fighters were shot down too,” Jacen said, picking up the story.

Jaina wrinkled her nose at the mildewy smell, the mold-clogged controls. She ran her fingers over the navigation panels in the cockpit, closing her eyes and wondering what it must have been like twenty-some years ago to be a fighter pilot in the Battle of Yavin 4. She envisioned an enemy fighter swooping toward her in a strafing run, her engine hit, her tiny ship careening out of control. …

Jacen’s voice broke into her thoughts. “But then in the end, our dad flew cover for Uncle Luke’s X-wing fighter while he took his final run. Uncle Luke made the shot that blew up the Death Star.”

Tenel Ka nodded gravely, her braided red-gold hair like a wreath around her head. “And why is it called a TIE fighter?” she asked.

Jaina answered, speaking up from the cockpit, “Because it has twin ion engines. T-I-E, see?”

Ducking her head, she wormed her way to the engine access panels at the rear of the cockpit and pried open the tarnished metal plate. A squeaking rodent, disturbed from its hidden nest, scampered away, vanishing through a small hole in the hull.

Jaina tinkered with the engines, checking integrity, noting the rotted hoses and fuel lines. But overall, the primary motivators seemed intact, though she would have to run numerous diagnostics. She had plenty of spare parts in her room.

She stood up slowly in the cockpit and poked her head out again, then ran her callused hands along the side of the crashed TIE fighter. “You know, I think we could do it,” Jaina said.

All eyes turned toward her, questioning.

“I think we could fix the TIE fighter.”

Her brother stared at her in stunned silence for a moment, then clapped a palm to his forehead. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

As the whine of the T-23 skyhopper faded into the jungle distance, the frightened forest creatures settled back into their routines. They scuttled through the underbrush, chasing each other across the branches, predator and prey. The leaves stirred and flying creatures sent their cries from treetop to treetop, forgetting the intruders entirely.

Far below on the forest floor, the branches of a dense thicket parted. A worn and tattered black glove pushed a thorny twig aside.

The pilot of the crashed TIE fighter emerged from his hiding place into the newly trampled clearing.

“Surrender is betrayal,” he muttered to himself, as he had done so many times before. It had become a litany during his years of rugged survival on the isolated jungle moon of Yavin.

The pilot’s protective uniform hung in rags from his gaunt frame, worn to tatters and patched with furs from an incredible number of years living alone in the jungle. His left arm, injured during the crash, was drawn up like a twisted claw against his chest. He stepped forward, cracking twigs under his old boots as he made his way to the crash site that was no longer secret. He had camouflaged the wrecked Imperial craft many years ago, hiding it from Rebel eyes. But now, despite all his work, it had been discovered.

“Surrender is betrayal,” he said again. He stared down at his fighter, trying to see what damage the Rebel spies had caused.